Score One for the Coach
by Bransch
Summary: When her son takes up football, Emma Swan starts attending games to support him. She just wants to cheer on her kid, but all the other moms want to set her up with the team's coach, Killian Jones. No matter how good looking he is, she hates set-ups. But can she really resist his charms once she starts getting to know him better?


_Author's Note: This is the story that I wrote for the fallforcs event. I live in Northeast Florida, and we don't often see many of the traditional markers of fall, like cooler weather and turning leaves, until much later in the year. But one fall tradition that is universal to the south is football. When I had to pick a fall topic to write a story about, football was one of the first things that came to mind._

* * *

Emma cringed as she watched Henry get tackled for the third time that day. He had insisted on playing football this year, and it was the first extracurricular activity his dad Neal supported and was willing to pay for. So, despite her concerns about injury, she hadn't tried very hard to talk her son out of playing. She was just happy there was finally something that allowed her ex to connect with his son.

Henry was good at the sport when he paid attention, but today was not one of those days. He kept looking to the bleachers to see when his dad was going to show up, and the defensive players were taking advantage of his distraction. Luckily he hadn't given up any points… yet. Being one of the fastest runners at his school, he'd been given the position of Running Back. His slight stature and ability to weave through obstacles had dubbed him the team's secret weapon. The other team wouldn't see him coming until it was too late. But he had to avoid getting tackled to make that work, and today he was doing a very poor job of it.

The coach blew his whistle. "Swan! Get your head in the game! Our first real matchup is Thursday. We need you focused!"

Emma couldn't help but swoon just a little at the football coach's accented speech. His elegant tone made even the most mundane platitudes sound exciting. And, even if she thought he might be granting a little too much importance to a game played by middle school kids, she appreciated his motivation tactics. He never lashed out in anger or tried to embarrass the kids. Instead he reminded them how dependent they were on each other.

"Sorry Coach Jones," Henry called back.

"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to your teammates." He blew his whistle again. "Everyone bring it in. Let's do a water break. The weather hasn't caught up with the date yet."

Emma fanned herself as she silently agreed with him. The weather in their North Georgia town was still hot, despite the September date. She was ready for fall and cooler temperatures.

"Oh my god, I know. He's so hot, right?" came a voice from her left. Emma looked over to see Ariel Seafarer, whose daughter Melody was the team's Kicker. Ariel was a beautiful woman with thick red hair, creamy smooth skin, and bright green eyes. She had a personality to match, being one of the kindest people Emma had ever met, outside of her sister-in-law Mary Margaret. She was also very happily married to her husband Eric for fifteen years, so why was she ogling the coach?

Emma realized she was staring awkwardly and quickly averted her gaze before replying. "Oh, um, no. I was thinking about the weather, actually."

Ariel smiled. "Oh yeah, that too. But it only serves to highlight his muscles more when he wears those tight shirts to try and combat the heat." Emma opened her mouth to reply, but Ariel pressed on. " And no, there is nothing wrong with my marriage. I love Eric dearly. But I still have eyes!" she said with a giggle.

"I um… I guess…?" Emma didn't know how to respond.

"You should ask him out sometime! You're both single. Then you could tell me all about it and help feed my fantasies."

"Ask who out?" came a voice from behind them as Neal settled on the bleachers next to Emma.

"No one," Emma replied, shooting a warning look to Ariel. "Where were you?" she asked, changing the subject as she turned to face him. "The scrimmage is almost over."

He rubbed his hand through his shaggy brown hair and looked at her with his big, brown, puppy dog eyes. "Shit, I'm sorry, Ems. I got held up at work. I promise I'll be on time for the game on Thursday. That's the important thing, right?"

"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to your son." It wasn't lost on Emma that her words echoed those of Coach Jones. "But don't give him empty promises. If you say you're going to be there, be there."

"Alright, alright. I got it. You don't have to badger me. I'll be there with bells on, okay?"

She bit her lip to hold back the snarky reply waiting on the tip of her tongue. Neal's nonchalance infuriated her. She'd found it charming when she first met him. She thought he was too cool to give a damn about anything. But now that he treated their son with the same laissez faire attitude, she wished Neal would learn to be conscientious. She would never trade her son for anything, but she chastised herself constantly for having ever hooked up with his father.

Thankfully, the rest of the scrimmage went well, and, as it wrapped up, she was glad to see the broad grin on Henry's face when he saw his father. Neal walked onto the field to greet his son, and Emma trailed behind.

"Mrs. Swan?" She heard Coach Jones say as he approached her.

She smiled awkwardly at him. "Just Miss Swan, Coach Jones. How can I help you?" She struggled to maintain her composure up close. He was so good looking, with his dark hair, broad shoulders, soulful blue eyes and artful scruff covering his rugged jaw.

"I was hoping to have a chance to speak with you about Henry in private. I have some concerns about his behavior." She felt her face pale at his words, which he must have noticed because he scrambled to amend his statement. "Oh! No, nothing dire, I assure you. Henry is a good boy."

"Of course he is! He's my son!" Neal said as he walked up with Henry at his side, his arm around the boy's shoulder.

"Mom! Can we go get pizza?" Henry asked, his pleading brown eyes an exact match of his father's, only with more sincerity.

"Um, yeah, let me just finish up with Coach Jones and I can meet you guys there. Where are you going?"

"Oh, well, I was kinda hoping I could have some guy time with Henry…" Neal replied, a sheepish smile spreading across his face.

"It's a school night, Neal," Emma began.

"Please Mom! Dad can drop me off at the apartment when we're done. I promise I'll still get my homework done."

She felt her resolve weaken. It was hard to deny Henry time with his father, an all too rare occurrence. "Fine," Emma said. She turned her steely gaze to Neal, "You better have him home by 9:00 at the latest."

"Yes officer."

His mother's permission having been granted, Henry headed off to the locker rooms to change. Neal called out that he'd be waiting for his son at the car, and, after a breezy goodbye to Emma, he headed that way. The field emptied out, but Coach Jones was still there.

"Well," Emma started as she walked over to him. "It appears my evening has opened up. I'm free now if you want to talk."

"Why don't we get dinner at Granny's?" Jones suggested. "I am afraid I unnecessarily worried you earlier, and I'd like to make up for my gaff."

She couldn't help but chuckle at his slyness. "Okay Coach Jones, I'll meet you for dinner, but I'm paying for my own meal."

"Alright," he said with a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling adorably. "But please, call me Killian."

She returned his smile. "Only if you call me Emma."

* * *

Sitting across from Emma Swan, Killian found his usual cool demeanor failing him. He'd been attracted to Henry's mother from the moment he saw her, but told himself that he could never do more than admire her from afar. He wasn't sure what possessed him to suggest they go out to dinner tonight. This conversation could just as easily have happened in his office. On school grounds. With other people around. Meeting her like this, in such a casual setting, felt almost like a date.

Thankfully, Emma did not seem afflicted by the same anxiety. "So, you said you had some concerns about Henry?"

"Ah, yes," Killian began, clearing his throat. "Henry is a good boy, and he plays hard, but he seems overly focused on how others perceive him. He shows a talent for football, but I have noticed that his best performances always occur when his father is around."

"I've seen that too," she replied, her voice low. "He's always been more of an introverted kid, writing stories and playing fantasy games with his friends. Neal has always pressed him to be more outgoing. I think that's the only reason he tried out for football, to connect with his dad."

"That's an understandable motivation, but I need Henry to be more consistent. We can't hinge all our games on whether or not his father will be there." He paused, gauging her reaction before continuing. "I would like to have a conversation with him along these lines, but, considering the sensitive topic, I wanted to consult with you before I do so."

She stared at him, and he could not interpret the look on her face. He had a moment of panic, fearing he'd overstepped his bounds, before the corners of her mouth lifted into a small smile. "Thank you… for offering to talk with him, but I think this would be better received coming from me."

"That would be perfect. Henry is truly an asset to our team. I am proud to be coaching him."

The waitress appeared then and they placed their orders. Once the menus were taken away, Emma placed her hands on the table and cocked her head slightly while she looked at him. He couldn't help but admire her intelligent green eyes, soft skin, high cheekbones, and golden hair. He'd always found Emma Swan to be beautiful, but being this close to her, he saw now that she was more than beautiful- she was captivating.

Her soft pink lips fell open, and he realized with a start that he'd been gawking at her. He felt his cheeks flush as he picked up his glass and took a long sip of water.

"So," she began, mercifully breaking the tension, "how did you end up coaching middle school football in Northeast Georgia? I hope I'm not wrong in assuming you're not a native, considering your accent."

He chuckled. "You are correct. I was raised in England, but I came to America when I was a freshman in high school. I was much more familiar with the version of football you Yanks call soccer, but there weren't many options to play soccer in the town I lived in, so I learned American football. I played well enough to be awarded a college scholarship. Not well enough to earn fame and fortune, but it paid for me to get my degree."

"As a teacher, right? How long have you been doing that?"

"Aye. I've been teaching for about ten years, but I only started coaching two years ago."

"And you like being a coach?"

"I do. I'm glad I took on this responsibility. I love teaching, but coaching gives me an entirely different sense of fulfillment."

"I should know this," she said with a shy smile, "but what subject do you teach?"

"Eighth grade English and literature."

"How'd you end up teaching middle school? That's a hard age group. I am extremely lucky to have an easy kid like Henry, but even I get frustrated now and then."

"Middle School is a difficult time of life, and that is just when students need extra support. I won't tell you that I've never had a student bring me to my wit's end, but for the most part I truly enjoy working with middle schoolers."

"Well, I have to thank you. Henry really likes having you as a coach. He's always going on about something 'Coach J' said. I'm glad he has someone like you setting an example for him."

"I'm happy to be there for him." He took another sip and looked at her, raising a single eyebrow. "Your turn, love. How did you end up working for the Sheriff's office?"

"My brother's the Sheriff."

"Truly? David Nolan is your brother?"

"Yep. Well, by adoption, but he's never treated me like anything less than his true sister."

"I like David. I've only been able to interact with him on a few occasions, but I can see that he is a truly good person."

"Do you know Mary Margaret? She teaches at the elementary school, so you two might not have met."

"We've crossed paths a few times, at teacher meetings and the like. I have yet to meet a more upbeat person."

"Truer words were never spoken,' she said with a chuckle. "I wonder why you and I haven't ever seen each other before? It seems like we've both been in Storybrooke for a while, and it's not like it's a large town."

"I've seen you, love. Several times. It just never felt right to approach you."

"Why not?"

"You're a parent. Teacher parent relations outside of school aren't expressly forbidden, but they are discouraged."

"Oh, right, of course." Emma drew back, seemingly reluctant to have gone down this path in their conversation. Luckily she was saved by the arrival of their food.

After they'd both taken a few bites, Killian picked up the conversation once more. "So, have you always lived in Storybrooke?"

"No. I came here when I was twelve."

"What brought you here?"

"Um…" she hesitated, putting her sandwich back on her plate and wiping her hands on a napkin. "It's not an easy story."

She'd rested her hand on the table, and he gently placed his own hand over it. "You can trust me, Swan. I'll not spill your secrets." He met her eyes with an earnest gaze.

She smiled nervously. "It's not exactly a secret. I'm surprised you haven't heard my story through the rumor mill already."

"I haven't, but even if I had, I would prefer to hear the truth from you."

Her smile bloomed into a radiant grin for just a brief moment, and it was like he was looking into the sun. As she began speaking, however, her countenance changed to a more pensive expression. "I was born in Maine, but my parents abandoned me when I was just a few days old. I don't know who they were. I got put in foster care. A family took me in, but when I was three they had their own child and I was moved."

"They could just give up a child they'd adopted?"

"I was never adopted. They only fostered me." She took a deep breath, her voice a little shaky. "After that I kind of bounced around. I'm told I was a willful child and gave most of the families a hard time. By the time I was twelve, I was living in group homes, and I'd had enough."

"What did you do?"

"I stole some cash and bought a bus ticket. I wasn't really sure where I wanted to go, but I had just enough money for a ticket to Atlanta, so I took that as a sign."

"You, as a twelve year-old, rode a bus from Maine to Atlanta?"

"From Boston, actually. That's where I'd been placed originally."

"What did you do when you arrived?"

"Starved, mostly. But then I met David and his mother Ruth, completely by chance. And David, being David, wouldn't let me walk away. It took a while, but I eventually learned to trust them, and they took me in. Ruth adopted me when I was sixteen. I only got a few years with her after that, but I cherish every one. She was an amazing woman."

"She sounds like it."

Emma sniffled slightly before taking in a deep breath. "So, tell me more about you. You said you came to the states as a high school freshman. What brought you here?"

"Well, like you, it's not exactly a happy tale. I grew up with my mother and older brother. Our father abandoned us when I was very young." He paused to clear his throat. The next part of the story never got easier, no matter how often he told it. "When I was thirteen, Mum got sick very suddenly. Cancer, late stage. Liam was in the Navy, stationed on a submarine, and we couldn't contact him. She died quickly, and, as I had no other family nearby, the social worker contacted my father. To this day I don't know how she was able to obtain his contact information so easily when Mum hadn't heard from him in ages."

Killian looked down at his plate, idly picking the sesame seeds off the bun of his hamburger. He lifted his head and saw Emma watching him without any pity, just understanding, and it was a balm to his nerves. Having lost his appetite, he shoved the plate to the side, but felt compelled to continue his tale. He found himself wanting to share things with Emma that he hadn't been willing to share with another person for a very long time.

"So," he said, taking a deep breath, "turns out dear old Dad was living in the States, in Florida. When he heard about Mum, he offered to take me in, even paying for my airfare. I didn't want to go, but he was still legally my father. It was all over before Liam even heard about our mother's death. Liam tried to get custody of me, but it was a very difficult battle, especially once I was stateside and in my father's care. Dad had turned over a new leaf. He had a new American wife and a little boy named Will. Pretty hard to get a judge to agree that living with my bachelor elder brother was a better situation."

"It must have been really hard for you, coming to a new country, not having your brother, and having to reconnect with your father."

"It was. I was very angry. Dad had his perfect little family. I resented him for leaving us behind. He tried to give me excuses, but I wouldn't listen. His wife, Maria, was the person who saved me from myself. She has the patience of a saint, that one. She convinced me to visit a therapist, reconnected me with Liam, and even helped me make a plan to move back to the UK once I was legally an adult."

"Did you go back?"

"No… um…" his throat choked up. "Liam was killed in an accident two years later."

"Oh Killian, I am so sorry!" She got up and moved to his side of the booth, taking his hand in her own and rubbing soothing circles on the back with her thumb.

"Thank you, love" he said, his voice husky. "It's in the past. It was a very difficult time in my life, but playing sports helped tremendously. The routine and camaraderie with my teammates helped me get through."

"I'm glad you had that to keep you grounded."

"As am I."

"Do you still keep in touch with your dad and Maria?"

"Aye. They moved down to Palm Beach, and Will is in college. We get together at holidays."

"Family is nice."

"It is." He looked down and saw that their fingers were still entwined. "It appears we have much in common."

"Yeah," she said with a smile. "I'd say we understand each other."

Their food had gone cold, but neither minded. They continued their conversation, staying as long as they dared before Emma had to leave to make sure Henry was home on time. When they parted ways, Killian felt lighter than he had in years. And that night when he slept, he had a pleasing dream involving the beach, a light breeze, and Emma's golden tresses flowing in the wind.

* * *

It was the night of the first game of the season. Henry's first game as a football player. The night Neal promised he wouldn't be late. And he wasn't there.

Emma's heart broke for her son. As she'd promised Killian, she had spoken with Henry about being distracted at the games. He seemed to understand and take her words to heart, but now it appeared as if nothing had stuck. Henry was constantly looking toward the bleachers, distracted from the game. Because of this, he'd lost control of the ball and allowed the opposing team to take possession. The Storybrooke Knights were down by a touchdown as a result.

They were midway through the second quarter. Mary Margaret and David had come out to support their nephew, and were very charitably attributing Henry's flawed performance to anything other than his father's absence

"He must be nervous, poor kid," David said. He clapped his hands and yelled loudly "Go Knights!" in an attempt to cheer on Henry.

"I'm sure Neal got held up at work. He'll be here soon," Mary Margaret said, her green eyes shining with their trademark look of hope. She smoothed her short black hair and scrutinized her sister-in-law. "Is there anything else going on?" She followed Emma's gaze to the field before realizing that Emma wasn't looking at the field, but rather the sideline where Coach Jones stood, anxiously watching the action.

"Killian Jones is the coach, huh? I never would have thought of him for this role, but he seems to be doing really well with the kids."

"Yeah, he's a good coach. Henry really likes him."

"Not just Henry, judging by the look on your face."

Emma turned to give her sister-in-law an incredulous look. "What are you talking about?"

"You're into him. I can see it in the way you look at him. And Ruby told me you had dinner with him at Granny's the other night."

"We had dinner to talk about Henry, that's it. I'm not 'into' him." She emphasized her words with air quotes.

"Right," Mary Margaret replied before fanning herself with her hand. "Man it's hot out here! I wonder why Coach Jones decided to wear black jeans instead of shorts."

"Blue jeans," Emma replied automatically before realizing the trap that had been laid for her.

"Really? His jeans are blue? How can you tell when it's so dark?"

"I'm not dignifying that with an answer," Emma grumbled before turning her attention back to the game.

Neal didn't arrive until the last two minutes of the first half. By that time the team was behind, 14-0. Killian lingered at the sideline after they filed off the field, and Emma took a chance to step down from the bleachers and approach him.

"Swan," he said, his smile forced, an exasperated look marring his features.

"Rough game, huh?"

"They're still children, I don't want to pressure them too much. But we had such high hopes going into this game."

"Well, Neal is here now, so maybe things will pick up in the second half?" Emma smiled at him sheepishly.

Killian sighed in response and scrubbed his hand down his face. "No offense, Emma, but I don't want the success of my team to hang on whether or not your ex can get his shit together."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Her heart started racing and her voice went up an octave, her body jumping into defense mode. "You think I told him to be late? You think I want my son stressing out like this?"

"Of course not," Killian backtracked. "I didn't mean that, but I thought you were going to talk about this with Henry?"

"I did!" she hissed, pulling him aside so they were more secluded. "But I can't control anything about this situation, and it kills me much more than it wounds your precious pride. It's just a damn game to you, Killian. Meanwhile, I have to watch my son's heart get broken every fucking day. So don't give me some lecture about how your team of middle school kids are losing one game because my son desperately craves validation from his father."

Killian set his jaw and stared at her. "This has nothing to do with my pride. This is about my team. The entire team. I need Henry to be able to focus, and if he can't do that, then maybe he's not cut out for football."

"You'd cut him? He's twelve. This is a middle school football league."

"And one of the reasons parents sign their kids up for this is to help them learn how to work as part of a team. Now, I am going to talk to all my players and encourage them to get their heads in the game and pull out a worthwhile performance. I am not worried about winning or losing, so long as they all put in their best effort. And Henry is not doing that right now. If he can't shape up, he will be cut."

Emma was speechless as she watched him walk away to the small, concrete block structure that served as a locker room. She really wished alcohol was allowed at these events. Unable to drink, she did the next best thing and trudged up the bleachers to yell at her ex for being so late.

* * *

Killian had not seen Emma since the night of the team's first game. Instead, Henry's father made a show of attending every scrimmage, always on time. It was quite an improvement on his part, and Killian couldn't help but feel happy for the lad.

They did not win their first game, but Henry improved in the second half. He was becoming a more conscientious player, although his father attending the entirety of their practice games was the most likely cause of his improvement. Killian still worried about how Henry would react if Neal suddenly returned to his old ways.

If he was honest with himself, Killian also missed Emma. After admiring her from afar for so long, it was painful now to not have the ability to further explore their potential relationship. He longed to apologize to her for his behavior that night. He'd been frustrated and said things he shouldn't have. He was unable to catch up with her after the game and hadn't seen her since.

After ruminating on these thoughts in his office one night, long after school ended, he decided to get out of his own head and go for a drink. Killian tried not to drink often. He had a bad history with alcohol, which at one point had nearly lost him his college scholarship. But, after many years of abstinence, he'd taught himself how to drink in moderation and enjoyed a nice glass of rum every now and then.

He stepped into his favorite establishment, the Rabbit Hole, and approached the bar. Just as he was about to take the first empty stool, he saw her. She looked as beautiful as ever, her golden tresses framing her face and accentuating her high cheekbones. A spot was open next to her, and he made his way over before he could think too much about it.

"Is this spot taken?" He asked as he gestured to the empty stool.

She looked up at him, and he could not read the expression in her eyes. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she opened her mouth to respond. He caught himself fixating on her lips and almost didn't hear what she said.

"Long time no see, Coach Jones."

"Aye, Miss Swan. I've missed you at our scrimmages."

"Yeah well… if I told you I was a little embarrassed to show my face after the fight we had, would you believe me?"

"I would, because I feel the same. I am sorry for the things I said. I let my temper and my frustration get the better of me."

"I'm sorry too. I think we both got a little carried away." She took a sip from her nearly empty drink. "That being said, I think it's better that Neal is the primary parent for football. He knows more about the sport."

"I'm glad he is there for Henry now, but his sudden change in behavior is somewhat surprising. I can't help but worry that it's not sustainable."

She was silent for a moment, studying the melting ice in her glass. "I think the change will stick. I've given him hell in the past for skipping out, but he really didn't start paying attention until I told him Henry might get cut from the team. He wanted to put the blame on you and go complain to the principal at first, but I talked him down from that, and he finally agreed to start attending scrimmages."

"I appreciate you saving me from another parent yelling at me about how I am robbing their child of an opportunity. I just hope you are right."

"Neal is a selfish bastard, but I think he's finally gotten the message. He does love his son."

The bartender came and took their order, and Killian used the opportunity to gather his wits. There was a time when he'd been good with women, and he tried to channel that part of himself now. " As I said, Swan, I am happy for Henry, but I don't wish to discuss your ex."

"Yeah?" She rested her elbows on the bar and looked at him slyly. "So what do you want to talk about?"

His rum arrived then, and he took a sip before replying. "I've missed seeing you. We'd only just begun to get to know one another, and I think I've made it clear that I've admired you for quite some time."

"I thought I was off limits," she responded, her voice husky as she batted her eyelashes.

"I've been thinking about that, and technically I'm not your son's teacher, just his coach."

"I see… Well that makes all the difference. Any other revelations?"

"Just that I can't stop thinking about how much I want to kiss you. I regret not taking the chance when I had it."

"Oh?" She angled her body toward him and tilted her head slightly. "Well, if you play your cards right you might get another." She put a hand on his thigh, just above the knee, and squeezed gently.

Although he was trying to be a gentleman, that simple touch went straight to his groin. He stifled a moan. It had been too long since he'd been with a woman. Instead, he mustered a cheeky grin and tilted his glass toward hers. "Well then, a toast to second chances."

* * *

Emma felt like a naughty teenager as she made out with Killian Jones in the alley next to the Rabbit Hole. They were trying to remain undetected, but doing a poor job of it judging by the sounds they were making.

Jones's mouth plundered her own, wrapping around her bottom lip and sucking gently, nibbling until she moaned and opened up, allowing him to slide his tongue inside. Their heads tilted and the kiss deepened, the firm press of his lips to her own fueling her fantasies of what else he could do with that mouth.

They parted to pull in some much needed breaths, before his sinful lips began to mark a trail down her neck. His hands pulled her hips into his own.

"You are so beautiful." He whispered against her neck. "I've wanted to taste you for so long."

"Come back to my place," she whispered. "Henry is spending the night with his dad."

He stopped, his mouth hovering over the hollow of her throat. "You are a siren, tempting me to my doom." The vibration of his voice against her skin made her shiver. "I would love nothing more than to spend the night worshipping you, but I must insist on being a gentleman."

"What do you mean?" She asked, running her fingers through the short hairs on the back of his head.

"Let me take you on a date, love. A real date." His hand flew up to cup her cheek as he lifted his head to gaze into her eyes. "Let me treat you like you deserve."

The Indian Summer heat wave had yet to abate, and, even at night, the humidity pressed down on them. She watched as a bead of sweat rolled down Killian's throat and wanted nothing more than to follow it with her tongue. "Are you sure we can't do both?" She grabbed the collar of his shirt and latched her mouth onto his neck, acting on her thoughts.

His head fell back and he groaned in frustration. "Emma, please, can we take this slow? I don't want to rush."

His shaky voice gave her pause, and she froze in place. "You really want to take me out first?" She lifted her head and met his eyes once more.

"Yes. I do. More than anything." He held the stare and pressed his lips together.

"Okay," she finally said, sliding her hands down to his shoulders and leaning forward to place a chaste kiss to his lips.

* * *

At the next game, Emma sat closer to the sidelines, and surreptitiously tried to check out Killian's butt every chance she got. A cold snap had finally come, and she was wearing a light sweater under her favorite red leather jacket. And if she'd been a little extra precise when applying her makeup that evening, it was no one's business but her own.

Ariel was there again, this time with Rory Prince, whose son, Phil, played defense. Ariel gave Emma a sly look before leaning over to Rory.

"She's definitely interested in the coach."

"Who could blame her?" Rory replied. "They'd be super cute together. I ship it."

"We're just friends," Emma replied, looking at the two other women with a furrowed brow.

"Okay," Ariel replied. "But if you ever change your mind and decide to go for more, you have our full support and encouragement."

"Absolutely," Rory chimed in. "Henry is welcome to spend the night any time you need a date night."

"But please," Ariel added, "give us details. I need to know if he's as good of a kisser as I imagine."

Emma couldn't stop the blush that rose up her face as she recalled memories from their night at the Rabbit Hole. "Thanks…" She schooled her features and looked forward, watching the game closely.

"Oh yeah. She wants him," Rory said. Emma took some deep breaths and tried to ignore them.

* * *

When Emma had agreed to a date with Killian, she'd made one request: they had to go somewhere outside of town, to avoid the prying eyes of small town neighbors.

Killian spent an entire evening agonizing over their destination before finally finding the perfect solution. Now it was the night of the date, and he pulled into the parking lot and headed to the gate to meet her.

"The fair? Really?" She asked as she walked up to him a short while later.

He had a moment of panic. "Would you rather go elsewhere?"

"No!" Her mouth stretched into a big smile. "I love the fair! I haven't been to one in years." She lifted up on her toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Perfect choice."

He relaxed and offered her his arm. After purchasing their admission and ride passes, they entered, walking down the aisle of carnival games first. Emma's face lit up as she pointed out the oversized stuffed animals hanging from the top of the tents. Killian determined that he would win her one of those prizes before they left.

They made their way to the ride section and lined up for Tilt-A-Whirl. The childlike joy on Emma's face warmed his heart. As they settled into their seats and the lap bar was lowered, she giggled in anticipation. The sound was pure magic. The ride started moving, slowly at first but picking up speed. As they spun around, Emma's giggles turned into full on laughs and Killian joined in. The ride was over almost as quickly as it began, but their joy continued as they lined up to ride the bumper cars next.

They worked their way through the ride section, leaving the ferris wheel for last. When it came time for the wheel, they were ushered into a gondola by the attendant and then waited as they were slowly moved forward so more riders could board. Killian took the opportunity to admire Emma's profile, cast in the glow of neon against the backdrop of the darkening sky.

She caught his eye and smiled. "This is wonderful. I'm so glad we did this."

"Aye. Me too." He reached over and threaded their fingers together.

She snuggled into his side just as the ride began to move. "You know," Emma said, "I don't normally like heights, but this is really nice. The view is breathtaking."

"That it is," he whispered, his eyes never leaving her face.

She tore her gaze from the view to meet his own. Her lips lifted into a shy smile and she tilted her chin up. He took the hint and met her mouth with his own, their kiss sweet and unhurried. The gondola rocked gently in response to their movement and the motion of the ride. They continued kissing even as they passed by the bottom of the ride where other riders were waiting. It was only when someone directed a whooping call their way that they broke apart, both flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and desire.

They ascended once more, and Emma leaned her head on his shoulder. "I really like you, Killian."

"I feel the same. You are an exceptional woman."

She looked up at him through her lashes, biting her lip. " Do you think we should… 'go public'? Tell people we're dating?"

"Is that what you want?"

"I do. But… maybe not just yet? It has nothing to do with you. It's just the other moms."

"What do they have to do with it?"

"They have been trying to push you and me together all season! They've all got the hots for you, and they want me to tell them everything that goes on between us. If they find out we're dating now, I'll never be able to make it through the rest of the season." Upon conclusion of her speech, her nerves got the better of her and she looked away.

"I'll follow your lead on this." He whispered as he lifted her arm to place a kiss on the back of her hand.

They hadn't noticed that the ride stopped until the attendant cleared his throat. They broke apart and Killian stepped out before helping Emma exit.

Once they were back on solid ground, Killian joined their hands once more. "Let's find something to eat, shall we?"

He led her to the food section, and they were immediately overwhelmed with the scent of fried cuisine. After perusing their choices, Emma opted for a corn dog while Killian got a slice of truly greasy pizza. They shared some onion rings and had cotton candy for dessert. Having eaten their fill, they headed back toward the midway to try their hand at some games.

The first game they approached was a basketball toss, where they competed to see who could make the most baskets. Emma's laughs were so beautiful, and Killian found himself distracted during the game, which led to her winning. He didn't mind very much when he saw her dazzling smile.

Similar to the rides, they proceeded down the aisle, also playing the ball toss, skeeball, and the water gun shooting gallery. The booth at the end of the row housed a balloon pop game, as well as the array of stuffed animals Emma had admired on their way in. She pointed to it again, identifying one of the smaller prizes hanging on the side.

"Look at that bear dressed like a pirate! Is that not the cutest thing you've ever seen?"

He saw the toy in question, a medium-sized stuffed bear wearing black trousers and shirt, with a red vest and a hook for a hand. It was certainly one of the more unique prizes. He remembered his pledge from earlier to win her a prize and approached the booth.

"What do I need to do in order to win that bear?" he asked the attendant, pointing to it.

"Pop one of the red balloons," the lad answered. "Five dollars for three darts. Wanna try?"

Killian fished a five dollar-bill out of his pocket and handed it to the young man and was given three rubber tipped darts in return. He felt confident that he would win the prize. He'd always been excellent at darts.

His first throw somehow managed to land between a blue and red balloon. The second hit a red balloon, but bounced off. This mishap helped him to understand the trick. Most of the balloons were not fully inflated, making them harder to pop. Holding his last dart in his right hand, he stepped back slightly and took stock of the entire board. One red balloon, in the upper right hand corner, looked fuller than the rest. He had his target.

He took a few steps to the right and angled his body in line with the balloon. Emma watched him with rapt attention. Killian closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. When he felt conditions were right, he threw the dart with extra force. It whistled through the air and hit the target directly on the head. There was a loud pop and Emma cried out in surprise.

"You did it!"

He smiled at her infectious joy. "I'll take that bear now, young man."

The attendant took down the bear and handed it to Killian. He turned and presented it to Emma.

"Thank you! No one has ever won me a prize at the fair before."

"Truly?"

"I've only ever been to the fair before with Henry, so I'm normally the one trying to win the prizes. It's nice to be on the other end for a change."

He smiled at her. "Well, I am glad I could win that for you."

"Me too." She threaded her arm through his as they continued walking, leaning her head on his shoulder once more.

They decided to walk around to the back of the fair, where live music was playing. As they traveled, he could feel Emma thinking. 'What's on your mind, love?"

She stopped walking and gave him a nervous smile. "I hope you're not mad about what I said on the ferris wheel. About not wanting to tell anyone about us. I'm starting to feel guilty after you've given me such a great night."

"You have no need to feel guilty. I understand your reasons for wanting to keep our relationship under wraps."

"And you're not mad?"

"Of course not, Emma. As long as we can find a way to see one another, I can deal with everything else."

She picked up his hand and pressed a firm kiss to the back, mimicking his action from earlier. "The last game is in November, right?"

"Aye, the first Thursday of the month."

"Okay, as soon as that's over, we'll let everyone know."

"Sounds like a perfect way to end the season, Swan." He gave her a goofy grin before leaning down to give her another soft kiss.

* * *

Emma huddled into her jacket. It was the last game of the season, and the weather was finally congruent with the date, the early November air having a slight chill. She was enjoying fall, but knew that the winter cold would arrive all too soon. It seemed like their little corner of the south was always too hot or too cold. There weren't many days that fell in between.

Despite the chill in the air, her spirits were high. The Storybrooke Knights had had a great season, and, if they won this game, they would break a school record for most wins in a season which had been set more than a decade prior. Emma had also found that by making Neal solely responsible for Henry's football career, he'd begun to step up as a parent in other ways. Henry was becoming more secure in his relationship with his father, which was all she ever really wanted for her son.

But the true source of Emma's joy was in the form of the team's coach, currently cheering on his charges from the sidelines. They'd had several more dates, and Emma felt like Killian Jones was someone she could be with for a long time. He was sweet and thoughtful and giving, and just thinking of him warmed her cheeks. They'd told Henry about their relationship a week ago, consigning him to secrecy. Henry was fortunately good at keeping secrets (though she wasn't sure how she felt about that in the grand scheme of things), so thankfully no one else suspected she was dating Killian. She watched him now and couldn't stop the thought that she was well on her way to falling in love with this man.

"You know…" she heard Ariel say from her right, "now that the season is over, you should totally ask Coach Jones out."

"You're still hung up on that?" Emma asked, not looking away from the field. She had to bite her cheek to stop her sly smile from giving her away.

"Not hung up on it. I just want to see you both happy."

"Save yourself the trouble, Ariel," Mary Margaret said, leaning around her sister-in-law to address the redhead. "If there's one thing I've learned about Emma, it's that pushing her toward something is the fastest way to get her to reject it."

"Ohhh," Ariel replied. "Reverse psychology, huh? I get it." She paused their discussion to cheer on her daughter, who was going onto the field to kick for a field goal. Melody was an accurate kicker, and sent the ball exactly where it needed to be, giving the Knights the advantage. The stands erupted in cheers. There were five minutes left in the game, and the Knights were up by three.

After a few more plays, the opposing team called a timeout, and Ariel took the chance to continue their discussion. "You totally should not go for Coach Jones, Emma. You two would make a terrible couple." She winked at Mary Margaret over Emma's shoulder.

"Wait, what?" Rory asked, returning from a restroom break. 'We don't want Emma to hook up with Jones now?"

"Nope," Ariel replied, a goofy smile on her face. "She shouldn't even consider it."

"I am so confused right now," Rory said, but once more the conversation was stopped when Phil intercepted the ball. He ran it for twenty yards before he was tackled. The clock had run down, and there was one minute left in the game. This would be the last play. The Knights' offensive line took the field and lined up a play Emma recognized from their scrimmages. Henry was going to get the ball.

The play began, and Henry ran to get into position. The quarterback threw the ball and it sailed down the field, landing smoothly in her son's arms. He ran. The other team tried to block him, but he used his ability to bob and weave and found holes in the defense they didn't see. He made it to the end zone just as the clock ticked down to twenty seconds left in the game.

A raucous cheer broke out as fans of the Storybrooke Knights applauded their team. The crowd quieted long enough for Melody to kick the point after, making the final score 17-7. The Knights had won, and the record was broken! Parents and fans cheered loudly as the players graciously shook hands with the opposing team.

Emma ran down the bleachers, and Ariel, Rory, and Mary Margaret called after her to stop. Parents weren't allowed on the field. But all three of their jaws dropped when Emma stopped at the sideline and ran up to Coach Jones. She cried out in excitement before bouncing up and wrapping her arms around his neck. He reciprocated her embrace, encircling her waist in his arms.

Emma looked up at Killian, love shining in her eyes, and his own reflecting the same. "Congratulations, Coach Jones."

"Why thank you, Miss Swan. Can I kiss you now?"

"You think you can handle it?" she asked, her smile spreading across her cheeks.

He didn't respond, but instead lowered his head and captured her lips with his own. The kiss was tender and chaste, a brief intermingling of lips, but still expressing all their passion. He pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. "I think they are the ones who can't handle it," he said, enunciating the 't' as he turned his head to gesture toward the three other women still gaping at them.

"They'll get used to it," Emma rose up and met his lips once more, but they were cut short when a triumphant cry came from the bleachers.

"I KNEW it!" Ariel called out, pumping her fist in the air.

Emma smiled. "I guess reverse psychology was all it took!" she called out in response.

"Reverse psychology?" Killian asked.

"I'll tell you later." They broke apart and threaded their fingers together, ready to join the victorious Storybrooke Knights.

* * *

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